


5 Time Peter Parker Almost Dies

by lizzybizzyzzz



Series: Precious Peter Parker, Punctured Peter Parker, and Especially Everything In-Between [9]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst, Awesome Pepper Potts, Bisexual Peter Parker, Character Death, Dead May Parker (Spider-Man), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hurt, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark Friendship, Major Character Injury, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark Friendship, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, Not Happy, Peter Parker Feels, Peter Parker Has Anxiety, Peter Parker Has a Family, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Natasha Romanov, Protective Pepper Potts, Protective Steve Rogers, Protective Tony Stark, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson Friendship, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark Friendship, Steve Rogers and the 21st Century, Teen Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-09 15:55:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15270993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizzybizzyzzz/pseuds/lizzybizzyzzz
Summary: ... and one time he does.





	1. How Can I Breath Without You

_2:07 am_

Peter's heart clenched, his lungs felt like they were deflating. His mouth went wide with fear, with so many emotions his tiny teenage brain can't comprehend them. He dramatically dropped to the ground in front of her, wheezing like a track star after a run. He tasted his salty tears on his tongue and just stared, his eyes never left her lifeless one. He sobbed, wrapping his arms around himself. He was scared to touch her, like he would make her more dead than she already was. 

"May!" Peter whimpered, his voice ragged and low. "Please no, god no."  _No no no no no no no-_

"Please, fuck!" He viciously wiped at his eyes, wanting to soak her in before he never saw her again. He reached out and gently closed her dull eyes, unable to handle the missing sparkle. He flinched back when he felt just how cold his aunt was. "I love you, May." He whispered. 

Peter saw no wounds, nothing that could cause this. He knows people don't just drop dead, but he couldn't think about that, much less in general. 

 _4:45 am_  

With shaky hands, Peter reached for his phone. He scrolled for what seems like forever since his eyes won't focus on the screen and they leak tears when he sees 'May' in his contact list. He finds himself pressing it, helpless to his emotions when it goes straight to her voicemail.

_'Hey it's May Parker, please leave a message and I'll get back to you asap!'_

Peter pressed the end call button a little harder than he normally would and kept scrolling until he saw Mr. Stark's grainy contact photo. He pressed the call button and waited. 

The man picked up after 5 rings with a very annoyed tone. "I know I said call whenever, but I didn't think... You okay, kid?" 

Peter couldn't hold himself together enough to say it, say anything. He took the phone away from his ear and ended the call, throwing it somewhere in the living room. He hears it vibrate, probably Mr. Stark calling but he can't pick it up. He can't take his eyes off his aunt. He can't remember what he last said to her, or when the last time they hugged for longer than a second. He can't remember how her laugh sounded like or even what her smile looked like. If he's already forgetting these detail of a lifetime, how will he last his own? He hopes he said something along the lines of  _I love you_  and not his usual teenage snark. He hear banging on the door but isn't bother to open it. He doesn't even take his eyes away to look at who is now standing above him. He doesn't look for who's placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, who's kneeling next to him. 

"Pete." Mr. Stark says softly. "C'mon, kid." 

Peter thrashes when the man tries to lift him away, he hits and kicks and beats against his mentor chest, wanting to be let down. He doesn't care if he hurts him because Peter is too hurt. This is a sadness that will never leave or fade. He  _hates_  the man shushing him while he yells himself hoarse. He takes one last glance of May before Mr. Stark and Happy are restraining him, dumping them into Rhodey's arms. 

"Let me see her!" Peter cries into the man's chest. He can feel the awkwardness and discomfort in the man holding him but he can't do anything about it. 

"It's okay." Rhodey cooed, patting his tense back. 

This makes Peter cry harder and push away from him. He braces himself against the wall, but doesn't try to go back into his apartment. He can't breath, _he can't_ _-_

 "Breath. In and out, that's right." Rhodey is on his again but Peter's can't see him. He clenched his eyes shut and is pulling it his shirt like it's strangling him. He feels like he'll never calm down. He'll never get over this. Will he ever breath right again?

And then he'd being guided out. There's strong hands on his biceps and soft ones on his back. May's body keeps flashing in his mind when he blinks his eyes and then he being yanked back away from the steep staircase because he almost fell down it. They're whispering that he'll be okay with time but Peter knows it isn't true. Time won't bring May back. Time wouldn't heal his broken heart nor his empty soul. His family tree was now just him, and him only. Peter's body was alone with only him and this sadness. This sadness would last his lifetime, he was sure of it. 

He blinks his eyes and sees Mr. Stark crouching in front of him holding his sweaty hands. His lips are moving and he is defiantly speaking to Peter but he never hears it. 

Then he's sat in a car in between Rhodey and Mr. Stark, the front seat was absent. The car was dead silent just like the compound would be that they were now at. He was being carried in this time, letting his head loll back as Happy opened the door. Peter feels absolutely nothing but grief and guilt and every other fucking heartache song is playing in his head. The lyrics and haunting him and playing on repeat but they override his senses. 

Mr. Stark sat next to him in silence. He didn't ask questions, didin't make Peter talk. He didn't wonder about the shit show that was his brain. 

Peter cleared his throat, making the man next to him jump. "Mr. Stark?" He whispered. 

Mr. Stark was watching him now, turning so that their bodies were faced together. "Yeah, kid?" It was the softest works the man has ever spoken to Peter. 

"May is dead." His voice cracks on the last words. Peter's breakdown his quiet this time, his lip quivers as tears stream like rivers down his cheeks. 

Hes being hugged. Hugged as gently and awkwardly as possibly. Peter can't move his limbs though, so he leans into Mr. Stark's chest. He feels a new warmth that has his body tingling. A hand is holding the back of his head and the other is resting on his prominent spine. Peter takes his first clear breath in what feel like years and he closes his eyes. He only sees black this time. 

"Yeah." Mr. Stark whispers back. "She is." 

Peter breathed without her, wondering how he did it.


	2. Tipsy For You

_11:09 pm_

"Ned, Ned, buddy," Peter said gently, gripping his friend's arms. "Hey, look at me." 

Ned's chocolate brown eyes stared into Peter's, making his woozy. He studied how his friend's eyes sparkled and how the smile lines were prominent and his  _dimples_ -

"Parker!" MJ shouted, smiling and stumbling. Peter could tell she was drunk because she never did either of those things. 

"Careful." He put his own drink down to grab her too. He swore to himself and shoved them both on a couch together. He left them to giggle away and find his drink. 

Peter quickly swallowed it all down and headed back to the bar. "Vodka Tonic, please." He said with a smile. He was surprised they got in the bar since he looked twelve years old.

Peter chugged and chugged his drink, feeling the alcohol rush to his head. He was starting to feel it now, only took 3 beers and 5 shots for him to feel _something._ See, Peter's friends dragged him into this so he could relax, it would give him something to do except sulk. It had been a month since his aunt died and the only reason he would drink tonight was to forget. It's not like he wanted to be disgusting and horny drunk, he wanted to fall asleep and blackout without the nightmares. He wanted to feel something that wasn't sadness and he would take numbness over anything. The drinking games and body shots he participated in were like a bandage on his pain. 

This was the seventh time he'd been drunk in the past two weeks. Mr. Stark was coming back today and that little detail slipped his mind when he sipped his first hard lemonade of the night. Even in his (more than) tipsy state, he made sure his friends were home safe. His lips tingled from when he finally made a move on Ned, sober or not, the kiss was amazing. Was it his first kiss? Peter had never had one sober before, so he didn't really know if it counted. All he knew if that his stomach was fluttering and his pants were definitely tighter now than when he was heading out. 

_1:59 am_

Peter finally pushed himself into the elevator, giggling when his head slapped against the mirror on the back wall. He was holding the rail so tight it made his hand print but he just stared with a lopsided smile. He wouldn't remember doing it so there was no point in feeling guilty now. The ding of the doors opening made him jump, and when he saw his mentor standing in them he started flipping out. He pressed his back against the cracked mirror and he realized there was blood. 

Blood from what? Peter wasn't hurting right now. "Hey, Mr. Stark!" He giggled. 

If Peter was sober, he could see the absolute fury in the man's eyes. "What the hell is going on?" He growled. 

Another ding. The elevators opened on the floor Peter originally wanted and he pushed past his angry mentor. When he arm was grabbed he only felt himself being whipped back around. "Peter Parker, before I lose it, tell me what the fuck you did." He hand tightened on Peter's bicep. 

Peter smiled and stared into Mr. Stark's eyes. They were glazed with what seemed to be poison. "Probably alcohol poisoning but I dunno." He shrugged. 

Mr. Stark clenched his jaw and took a deep breath. "Is this the first time?" 

"First what?" Peter asked, genuinely confused. He also didn't know why Mr. Stark was so mad at him. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong is you!" He yelled. Peter backed away, beginning to feel some of that pain he tried  _so hard_  to get rid of, if only for a few hours before he burned through it like he did every other pain killer. He couldn't take this rejection too, this disappointment. He had to lea- "You're supposed to be better than me, and what do you do? You go sneak off and get drunk! You're too smart, Peter. I will not let you ruin yourself over a few cold ones." Mr. Stark stared at him without sympathy and coldly. It was unlike anything he'd ever seen in the man. Peter didn't like  how fast he was sobering up because now when he closed his eyes he heard the painful words and saw May's dead body on the flo- "You better not even  _think_  about pulling that shit here again. Do you understand?" 

Peter swallowed down the lump in his throat. "Yes, sir." He was fully sober. He was fully aware of his past and present pain. He needed something else, another pain reliever. He stared straight ahead, unable to meet Mr. Stark's eyes. 

"You okay, kid?" Mr. Stark asks. It's softer but his anger is still bubbling through. It's hitting Peter like his own personal meteor shower, poking red holes in his skin. It's tearing his heart apart, or at least, what's left of it that isn't too far gone. This was a whole different kind of hurt. A whole new kind of tiredness. 

"Course." And before the man could ask anything else that hurts him, he walks too his room and locks the door behind him. 

_2:34 am_

Peter's body aches and he lets the cold water run down his tense muscles. He reaches to the back of his head and gently washes off the dried blood from his hair. The scratch was gone before Peter even felt it and for that, he's grateful. He feels dirty even after he washed his body three times. He washed his hair twice and uses Mrs. Potts conditioner because the smell makes him feel safe. She reminds him of May, their same motherly tendencies. He remember when May would- 

Peter shuts of the water and doesn't even dry himself before putting on his hoodie and sweatpants. He rips the comb through his hair, ignoring the tearing feeling on his scalp. 

_2:46 am_

He hears a knock on his door and he sprints to his bed and pretends to be asleep. "Peter?" It's Mrs. Potts. He sits up, not bothering to try and look sleepy. It's no use. 

"Hi, Mrs. Potts." He says, giving her a small smile. She sits next to him on the bed and smiled back. Her freckles make him happy so he stares at those instead of her pitiful eyes. He does love her, she's too nice. She's everything Ma-

"Hi honey, I heard you had a rough night." Mrs. Potts didn't judge him or even look mad. She was just her. "I brought you a granola bar since I know you don't like to eat at night and a water bottle." 

Peter sighed, his heart was warm. "You didn't have to do that-"

"I wanted to." She reached out and ran a hand through his messy hair. He reached into it, and closed his eyes. "You'll be okay, Peter."

His eyes snap open and he feels the emotional barrier breaking. "I want to believe you." He says, his voice cracking. "I've messed up too many times now. Too many..." 

She massages his scalp and grabs his hand with her free one. Her smile is  _so warm_  it's making Peter feel whole again. "Like I said honey, it'll all be okay. You know where to find me." Mrs. Potts winked at him and he wonders if Tony got it from her or vise versa. "Try and get some sleep."

Peter nods and watches her shut the door. He wonders how she got in after he'd locked it. He shakes his head and lets it hit the pillow beneath it.

_5:22 am_

To be fair, he just goes to the kitchen. Peter goes to the kitchen and the world falls before his eyes. One second he's reaching for a box of cereal and the next he's clamping down so hard on his ears he hears nothing for the first time in awhile. He blinks and sees stars but not before he sees May's dull blue eyes piercing his own. He feels Rhodey hugging his so tight he can't breathe, even though Peter's chest is free. He feels their hands on his biceps and the small of his back, making him shudder. He hears the door of his apartment slamming shut and it echos so loudly he thinks his lungs are punctured. He doesn't ever realizing he's crying until and tears hit the ground and make his knees slip on the tile. He didn't realize he was yelling until the Avengers piled themselves into the kitchen in their pajamas, holding their weapons high. Peter cries harder from guilt as he heals all the metal clatter to the ground. More hands on him, all over him. He tries to flinch away, hit his head so hard on the ground that he passes out but now there's a hand there too. 

"Stop!" Peter cries. He can feel how heavy his chest is. So many hands, so many people watching. "Please!" And he feels guilty for making these people wake for his meltdowns. This is his second one in a month and his weaknesses are flowing out of him like a river. 

"Where the hell is Stark?" Peter hears in his mess of things. That has to be Mr. Rogers' voice. 

Hearing Mr. Stark's name makes him panic more and he shakes his head so hard he get whiplash. "No!" He breathes. "No Mr. Stark. He's m-mad at m-me already."

The group of people seem to be as much of a mess as Peter. He hears the coffee machine and smells hot chocolate. He breathes it in, practically feeling it's warmth. There's less hands on him, less weight and he can breath. He ignore the bloody mirror he sees in the back of his head and focuses on the cup he's being handed. 

"Thank you, Ms. Romanoff." Peter says quietly. She pats his knee and says nothing. Her eyes portray no emotion but Peter knows she feels, because these days, he tries to do the same thing.

They all sit around the boy on the ground, hands on their respective mugs. Wanda is closest, their shoulders brush every now and then and he doesn't mind it. Mr. Rogers is across from him, telling Mr. Barnes a story. Rhodey and Mr. Wilson are reading the newspaper, which confuses Peter, but his voice is too hoarse to be heard so he seals his lips. There's others, but Peter's eyes hurt and the strain would make him insane. This is so domestic it hurts his head. 

"Mr. Parker." FRIDAYS' voice rings through the room making everyone jump. Mr. Wilson slaps the gun out of Natasha's hands and muttered something about 'chilling the fuck out' which Peter thinks is funny, but he doesn't laugh like he usually would. "Boss wants to see you in the lab." 

"No," Peter says, his voice is so quiet he's surprised Wanda even heard him. She takes the cup out of his hands with a knowing smile. 

Mr. Rogers stands first, offering Peter a hand. He takes it and looks into the mans eyes. "I'll come with you, in case..." 

Peter nods, melting at the gentle hand that was on his shoulder. The physical contact was marvelous, and he didn't get much, so he might as well soak it up now. He hears the familiar ding of the elevator and step inside, Mr. Rogers by his side.

_6:01 am_

Peter places a hand on his chest in attempt to steady his own heartbeat. He tries to say that it'll be okay. He can't help but hope its Pepper. 

 _Fuck._ "Peter." Mr. Stark says gently. It makes Peter flinch at the tone difference. Last time the man was yelling at him, holding him so tight it would have hurt if he wasn't drunk. If he didn't have super-human healing he'd have finger print bruises in the shapes of his mentors fingers. Peter's emotions crash down on him for a second time that day, but he stays standing. The tears fall but Peter makes sure that he doesn't. He hates crying, he hates when people see him cry. "You don't know how sorry I am." 

But Peter does know. He knows that Mr. Stark would never try to hurt him, he knows that Peter can be a pain in the ass, he knows he's a burden. He knows he has no right to feel twinges of hurt of  _fear_ towards his mentor. "It's okay, Mr. Stark." 

"It's not, kid." The man shakes his head. "I'm trying not to be my d- Howard. I can't be Howard to you, please, let me try again." Short and sweet. It's almost emotional but Peter feels nothing. He gets it, he does. But when Mr. Stark reaches for him Peter can't help but flinch again as he remembers the mans tight hands on his bicep. He remember the yelling, how it sobered him into sadness yet again. 

Peter's lip is quivering and he has no tears left to cry. His throat hurts and he can feel his heated cheeks and puffy eyes, it's irritating him. "I told you, it's okay." He feels jumpy and anxious. 

He lets Mr. Stark come at him again. He lets the mans hand cup his cheek and so  _so_ gently stroke his cheek. Peter hums and his heart feels that stupid warm feeling again. "Come here, Pete." 

Peter lets himself be held, he lets his own arms wrap around Mr. Stark and hold him close. The mans cologne smells a lot like Ned's. There's a hand in his hair and Peter almost feels okay for a moment.  _Almost._ Home is Uncle Ben, Home is Aunt May and their crammed apartment and rusty fire escape. He tries to tell himself that this embrace will will last forever, but its temporary. It's a temporary solution to a permanent problem. 

"I'm sorry, kid." Mr. Stark whispers, holding him tighter. 

Peter lets himself breath deeply and finally accept this. He hold onto his mentor like its his life, which it is. He may have lost everyone else, but sometimes you have to make a home from what you have. And right now, Peter has Mr. Stark. "It'll be okay." He says, just like Pepper had told him. Maybe he was starting to believe her. 

Mr. Stark shakes his head. "I don't deserve you, Pete." 

Peter genuinely smiles for the first time in a month. "I know."

Peter is completely sober saying this, and he doesn't even know how.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOT EDITED, SORRY FOR MISTAKES


	3. Unrequited Bullshit

_3:57 pm_

Peter walks back to the compound, replaying the last of the conversation in his head. He can't wrap himself around the words, Ned's words. He guesses it's better that he doesn't comprehend it right away so he doesn't have a meltdown in the middle of Queens. That wasn't too pretty last time. 

_"Peter, I don't know what you're saying." Ned admitted, looking defeated. "I just... We we're drunk! It was a long time ago."_

_Peter stared at his shoes, not knowing was to do or say. He lacked this social set, he should really work on it. "I'm sorry, man. Please, can we be friends?"_

_Ned smiled at him and patted his shoulder. "Always." His smile faltered."I'm sorry._

_Peter shrugged and gave him a sad smile. "Hey man, like you said, we were drunk."_

_Ned nodded and started packing his things. It was so awkward Peter wanted to take a one way train out the window. "See ya."_

Peter stepped through the glass doors and greeted FRIDAY.

Everything, everything at once came crashing down on his. He clawed at his throat and backpack straps but it was no use, they wouldn't come off. 

"Tony!" He wheezed, hoping FRIDAY would get the message. 

"Boss is walking towards you." 

Peter's surprised he didn't hear then man. He looked up and locked eyes. Mr. Stark placed soft hands on his shoulders and guided his to the couch.

Peter leaned into Mr. Stark, he needed the comfort, he needed all the love he could get right now. This rejection, this unrequited love was going to kill him, Peter was sure. The feeling he had in his chest that was spreading to his stomach made him want to gag. His hands tightly clenched the back of the mans tear-soaked shirt.  

"Mr. Stark I love him!" Peter sobbed. "I can't-"

"Breathe?" Mr. Stark supplied. 

Peter nodded helplessly. He wants to die. He wants any pain but this, anything but this heartbreak. It hurts the most because its new, but it feels like he was crushed. He feels like the building Toomes dropped on him was the weight on his chest. He can't take all of this. He wanted returned love, not this unrequited bullshit. Peter  _wants_ his lings to collapse, he wants the world to fall apart since his is already in pieces, they're crumbling beneath his feet. He wants to smash apart his body and turn to dust, flowing so smoothly in the wind. He wants to sift right through the fingers if the man holding him, gone forever.

_4:12 pm_

"I want to go." He whispered. "I want to go, I want to go, sir, please!" Peter's sobs melted through to the last verse the most. 

Mr. Stark helped them both to the ground where he held on tightly. "You're alright." 

Peter felt guilty, Guilty for always falling apart, for never being able to piece himself together and just  _leave_ everything alone. "I'm sorry." 

Mr. Stark too, was breathless. He looked frantic but concerned and Peter couldn't fathom why. He kept think about Ned Leeds. The first boy that broke his heart and he wouldn't be the last, not even close. Peter would try not to be a heartbreak cause this  _sucks_. He takes a deep breath and break away from his mentor's hold. 

"Promise me, kid, before you give me a heart attack." Mr. Stark grumbled, rubbing his forehead with a sweaty hand. "Please, don't do anything stupid because of this."

Peter nodded, not wanting to upset the man. He looked like he was having a harder time than Peter. 

Mr. Stark smiled. "You're gonna make my stress test wild, Banner's gonna have his own heart attack."

Peter smiled back, wiping away his face. He helped his mentor up with a quick pull. "I'll go easy on your heart."

Tony gasped and swayed. "Oh, Petey, you shouldn't have!" 

"Shut up, old man." He snorted. 

"You're grounded." 

"You can't-"

"I can." Mr. Stark smirked. "You're grounded." 

Maybe Peter's love wasn't un-returned by everyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol sorry


	4. Superhuman Sickness

Peter's lips trembled as he was lowered onto the stretcher, quite harshly he might add. He forced himself not to cry, he thinks he does it way too often. Mr. Stark was ordering people around and clamping his hand a little too tight. 

"The world is out for you, kid." Mr. Stark said, smirking. 

Peter grunted. "I realized that when that stupid fucking-" 

"Language!" Steve snapped. 

"-spider bit me." 

"I though you ate the spider." Sam said, shrugging. "I guess biting makes more sense-"

"That's gross, man." Peter deadpanned. "You think I would eat a spider? For _fun?_ "

"Alright, we get it but I hate to say that his appendix burst and he needs surgery." Natasha said, laying her cold fingers on his abdomen. 

"Shouldn't have said it." Peter muttered, earning him multiple swats on the back of his head. "Ow! I'm dying here and you're all hitting me!" 

"Team effort." Clint said. 

"You're not dying, you over-dramatic piece of shit." 

Steve gasped in real shock. "Do you always call your kid names?" 

"Adopted." Mr. Stark chirped.

"Hey! Peter said, holding the hand Mr. Stark hand over his heart. "Sensitive subject."

Mr. Stark rolled his eyes and let go of Peter's hand. Maybe he realized that Peter was not in fact dying, just in a lot of pain. A  _lot_ of pain. He felt the organ pulse as his body tries to fix it, but there was nothing it could do. "Can I have the blanket?" He croaked. His voice sounded worse than it did a few minutes ago which worried himself. He couldn't die when his life was just starting to look up. Everything was good and getting better. Peter was glad that he listened to the adults in his life, always telling him it gets better. This is the better they were talking about. Not this exact moment where he was laying in a jet out of earth with a broken stomach, but this general timeline. 

Mr. Stark looked back at him with wide eyes. He placed a hand on Peter's forehead and shook his head. "Fever's too high. Almost there, kid." 

"How long is, 'almost there?'" Peter asked, closing his eyes. 

"Hey!" Mr. Stark snapped his fingers in front of his ears, making him wince. "Sorry, but you can't sleep. Only like, a couples hours. Barton?"

Clint grimaced. "Seven hours." 

Peter breathed out in pain. He was balling his fists so tightly he was bleeding. "Oh no." He breathed. 

Mr. Stark held his hands gently. "Hey, it's okay." He quickly wrapped Peter's hands with white bandages. "Just hold my hands." He tapped the get the metal Iron Man hands and Peter held on for dear life. 

Peter was okay for awhile. The bloating of his stomach hurt so bad, he would have rather gotten shot. He was breathing heavily getting into the fifth hour, the pain was getting unbearable and he managed to dent Mr. Stark's armor. 

"Almost there, kid. Just a little longer." Mr. Stark said, running his hands through Peter's sweaty hair. He was sweating and unable to drink anything, it was so much worse. 

Peter couldn't talk, he didn't trust himself not to have a meltdown from the pain. He stomach was swelling so much he looked pregnant.  _That_ would be something. He wants to pass out from the pain, but his body wouldn't let him. His breathing came out in grunts as he jammed his fingernails into his palms again. 

"No, Pete." Mr. Stark said as gently as before taking the boys hands in his bare ones. "You're okay."

Peter took them away and shook his head. Finally, finally, he passed out. 

-

"You're killing me." 

"You know what was killing me? My appendix." Peter groaned, sitting up. 

Mr. Stark pushed him back down and straightened the IV. "Cut it out. Even unconscious you're finding ways to give me a heart attack." 

"W wouldn't want another one of those." Peter said, chuckling. 

Mr. Stark shrugged. "Wouldn't be the first time."

"Can I at least sit on the couch?' Peter asked. He was starting to feel claustrophobic in the very white room, the monitors beeping would surely make him insane. The glass windows where the Avengers were watching were too clean, this room-

"Lets go." Mr. Stark sighed. 

Under any other circumstances, Peter would have protested with kicking and screaming at being carried bridal style. He would have thrown a tantrum and hit his mentors chest. But today, he held on tight and closed his eyes as Mr. Stark carried him down the hall. The others didn't say a word, they just smiled and had shocked looks on their faces. 

"Thank you, Mr. Stark." Peter said as he wrapped himself in the blanket. 

The man smiled and nodded. "I'll be in the lab." 

Peter watched him go, trying to find the courage to say something. His muscles were sore and he would sound like  _such_ a little kid- "Mr. Stark?" He said quietly. 

He turned, eyebrows raised.

Peter gulped and blinked. "Will you stay?"

Mr. Stark looked like he was going to melt right then and there. "Scoot over."

Peter ended up lying in Mr. Stark's hold, his head against the mans shoulder and wrapped into his warm body. He could stay like this forever, he would lay here forever. 

All thanks to this superhuman yet all mundane sickness.

 


	5. Goodnight

_The cement and dust was in Peter's eyes. His lungs were filled with the stuff and Peter decided that it was too deadly of a situation. He couldn't move, couldn't feel his legs. His ribs were being crushed and especially everything between them. Not good not good not good-_

_"You deserve this," May spat at him, evilly grinning. "You deserve to be alone, I never wanted you. I just felt bad."_

_If Peter could scream in his dream, he would have. He couldn't even pull the Spider-Man sass out of his ass like his gut told him to do. This wasn't his May._

_"We only want you for Spider-Man." Mr. Stark said, not looking up from his phone. "Beat it, kid."_

"Mr. Parker, Boss has requested you in the training room." 

Peter swallowed hard. "Tell him I'll be there in five." 

- 

"Glad you could join us." Natasha said with a smirk. 

Peter smushed his mask over his face and muttered a quiet hello to Karen. 

"Hello Peter. It seems you were recently in distress based on your blood pressure and heart rate, should I call Mr. Stark?"

The words were voiced louder, and Peter swore at his Al. "What was that?" Steve asked, walking towards him like he would hit him

"N-Nothing, sir." Peter said, backing away  _right_ into Mr, Stark. 

"And why didn't we call Mr. Stark?" The man himself asked, holding Peter's shoulder so he couldn't escape. 

"You called me down! I thought there was a mission-"

"We told you we were training in the morning. You've been excited about it for the whole week." Steve reminded him. 

"Give him a break." Clint said, pushing both men away from Peter. God, he loved that archer. 

"I'm fine." Peter said, walking towards Natasha, who was still smirking. 

"Then lets get to work." 

And they did. By the time they were done Peter was ready to pass out from exhaustion. He laid on the floor quite literally in a pool of sweat and blood. Yeah, they'd gotten a few good hits in but he only lost once. One time to all (the ones there) the Avengers, and it was Natasha. He would take being in her presence a win, so it was a pretty good time.  

"I'm heading to bed." Peter said, ripping the mask off. He was ignoring Karen for what she did earlier. He also ignored all their worried looks, their protests. He was sick of them treating him like he was broken even if he was. Peter was no different, he experiences trauma after trauma but he's still in one piece. 

Peter slipped into bed after having a shower. He pulled the MIT hoodie Mr. Stark gave him so long ago over his head and bundled himself up. He knew it was going to be a long night. He wonders what nightmares he would have today and suddenly he's jittery. His hands won't stop shaking and he hears footsteps fourteen floors below him. The thoughts swarming in his head are tear-worthy but he's too tired. _Too too tired for a sixteen year old_ , he thinks. 

"Mr. Parker, it appear you are in distress. Boss has overridden Privacy Protocol and was alerted of this."

He prays with every ounce in his body that somehow Mr. Stark would ignore the notice or even forget Peter exists for a mere 20 minutes so he can calm down. Peter had no such luck. Before he could say 'get out' the man was sitting on his bed. 

"Pete," Mr. Stark whispered, fully aware of the sensory overload that was taking over his body. Even the whisper had him wince and shove his fingers in his ears. It wasn't long before the man was gently pulling them out, but it was nice while it lasted. 

Peter shook his head and let out a choked sob. He tried ripping his hands away from the hold, but he was too tired to put up a real fight. He just squirmed until his muscles went stiff and Mr. Stark was shushing him and scooting closer. 

"Stop..." Peter breathed. "The noises."

He could hear screaming of laughter in other rooms, treadmills running and conversations on the first floor. 

"FRIDAY, alert everyone. Mute everything in the building." 

And then, Peter felt better. His head was clearing but the dead eyes of his aunt were still behind his eye lids. His own screams echoed in his head like bombs going off and he felt the hands again. The hands that were crushing him him cement and filling his lungs with water from the Hudson. He heard the gunshot and then his Uncle's dead body at his feet. 

"Peter." Mr. Stark said, firmly planting his hands on his shoulders. "Look at me, look around you."

Peter did. He looked back at Mr. Stark. "Don't leave me, Mr. Stark." Peter practically jumped in his arms, burring himself in Mr. Stark and letting himself breathe again. 

Peter felt him smile against his head. "I'm not going anywhere, kid."

After a few minutes, Peter started to drift off. 

"Night, Misser Star." He slurred. 

The man chuckled and held him tighter, if possible. "Goodnight, kid."


	6. Life and Soul

 

Peter saw everything, and among the chains he was in he was purely helpless. He bounded him in cuffs he couldn't break. Peter could feel the metal cutting into his skin and making him bleed. 

"Physical torture is  _so_ last season." The girl said with a smile. Her red dripping lipstick and straw-looking hair made him want to gag. "Get out the other guy."

Peter's heart was racing as they brought out Mr. Stark. He was limp in their arms but still blinking and breathing. He was too pale and too weak.

Peter wanted to scream as they started beating him, he wanted to rip this stupid mask off and save Mr. Stark and  _go home._ He was bloody and bruised and now staring at Peter with tears in his eyes. 

"It's okay, kid." Mr. Stark spit blood onto the ground. He groaned as they hit him again. 

"Stop! Please stop! Take me instead!" Peter cried, but everyone ignored him. He watched as his mentor, his father figure, his idol, got beat the death in front of him. 

When Mr. Stark's chest fell but didntd rise again, Peter screamed. The people I'm the room were laughing and pointing at the body in front of him, at Peter. Mr. Stark's eyes were open, and he saw the flash if May's blue ones again. It's now two sets of eyes he'll see in his nightmares. The nightmares that Mr. Stark wouldn't be there to help him through. The days ripped away from home the years Peter could have spent with the man were taken right frof him by these people.

Peter blinked the tears out of his eyes and squared his jaw. "Karen," he said. "Activate Instant Kill Mode." He ripped himself out of the chains with pure adrenaline.

"Peter, I cannot do this. Mr. Stark has disabled the action. His personal dialogue will play now." 

A beat in his heart skipped and the tears came back. His chest hurts. "Peter, don't do this. I know it's hard but you can't stoop lower than them. You'll be better than us, hell- you already are. I'm proud of you, kid." 

Peter slipped his mask off and sunk to the ground once again of the dead body of his mentor. When the life slipped out of his mentors body, his soul slipped from his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry to cut this short, I didn't want it to drag on. I wanted it to the point and depressing!


	7. Flowers Around Us

"H-Hey Mr. Stark." Peter said, sitting down on the cold dirt. The flowers looked exceptionally beautiful. He tried picking the best but his mentor's favorite flower store was closed today, so he did his best. "I need some advice, and I know you're the one to help." 

Peter chuckled to himself. "I really like this girl, her name is MJ. I have definitely talked about her before but now I just... I like her. But, I'm me! What a surprise, I know. Why like Peter Parker when there's Spider-Man. She knows, says she doesn't care but everyone does."

He fidgets with the flowers and smacks the dirt like a child. Mr. Stark would tell him,  _'you're just a kid'_  and Peter would give anything to hear him say it just once more. 

"I'm graduating soon." Peter breaths, like it's a secret. "I got accepted into MIT, with your help, of course." He smiled down at his hands. "I couldn't have done it without you, Tony. Happy said he was coming to the ceremony, so is Pepper. I'm liking my cheering squad so far." 

His smile falters and he closes his eyes. Maybe if he holds the dirt between his fingers, someone will answer. Mr. Stark will appear right in front of him to say the old,  _'nice work, kid.'_  Peter could only dream. 

"I'm staying at the compound with Wanda and Vision. Still trying to teach his to use doors, but it's a work in process." 

Another minute passes. "Ned and I were talking about getting an apartment together, but I... I don't know." He shrugs. "You remember when I was in love with him? That was so so long ago. It feels like yesterday when I was always bleeding out on your couches and getting yelled at for breaking curfew." 

Two minutes. "I really miss you, Mr. Stark." He gulps, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. "It's- It's not the same. I just want to make you proud." Peter's voice cracks like he's a teenager again. God, that was so long ago.  

_"Pete, it's okay." Tony said, rocking him like a baby. Peter sobbed and screamed in his arms for so long it felt like a year. He felt like if his mentor let him go he would physically fall apart. Tony was the barrier between living and dying, his oxygen._

_"Don't leave me!" Peter cried, gripping Tony's shirt so hard his knuckles were white._

_"I won't, kid."_

"Well, I've-uh, got to go, Mr. Stark." Peter said, rubbing the back of his neck with a smile. He pushed himself off the dirt and brushed the flecks off his pants. "I'll come back after finals, you know how stressful those are!" 

The loss hit him square in the chest when he turned away from the grave-site. If Peter looked back now he'd probably stay there all day and never look back. He wanted to cry but instead he got into the car Happy was waiting in. He didn't look back at the cemetery until Happy was asking him how it went, when they were too far for Peter to go back to Mr. Stark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol sorry in done now


End file.
